Mirrors
by aLazyButSmartFanPJO
Summary: AU: Everyone adored him. Everyone wanted him. Everyone loved him. But he was a wimp. He wasn't even worthy to be called a hero. So why should they trust their lives on someone who could do nothing more than embarrassing himself? Percabeth :) Co-authored by Ilsoaubieslele. Disclaimer: We own nothing. Cover art by Burdge.
1. Accidental

**Hi. So I'm back. I'm alive.**

**I uh, know that I have two more (one, if you don't count what I don't want to do) active stories to mind, especially CH, but I can't help it. Rather, my friend from school. We kinda decided to co-op and here it is. Originally my idea, but yeah, no boasting about that.**

**This isn't my top priority as of now, since this isn't on my _love_ list, and so that's where Islo-what's-her-name would come in. We have varying writing styles, so I'm pretty sure the readers who'd stayed with me could identify which I'd written. And uh, she kinda slacks off much more than me. So we're not sure if the updates would be scheduled.**

**Take note that some of the dialogue is copied from Rick's. Some scenes are going to be skipped. POVs are going to change.**

**And, without further ado, we present you Mirrors.**

* * *

Chapter 1: Accidental

He should've died right then and there.

So maybe he wouldn't have to face the consequences of living. So maybe he wouldn't need to act so self-centered all the time, since all he wanted was some time to himself.

So maybe he didn't have to live this life that he'd hated so much—which made it more miserable when he'd lived.

The only thing good about his life was that he had friends—but it seems that it wasn't too much of a good thing, for him.

It didn't need a genius to figure out that his so-called friends were following him because of his good looks. He wasn't so sure, but so many people had told him that _apparently _he was good-looking; and since then he decided that 'friends' aren't the right name for them. The thing that his mind could process was that they wanted to be popular by making friends with the popular guy. As if he was popular.

The only real friend he'd had was Grover. He was his best friend, in fact. He was the only one he felt that he could trust. They met when the guy stumbled across him, wide-eyed and red-nosed, as if it was his first time to have a cold. Grover was this scrawny, crippled guy who was the only sixth grader who had acne. Not that he minded. He loved poking fun at him.

Right now, he and Grover were sitting on a fountain's edge at the Metropolitan Museum of Art. They tried to be as far as possible from the crowd, but they kept closing in, circling them both, but mostly him. Poor Grover was being pushed around out of the way.

"Percy," Nancy Bobofit, a freckled red-head, smiled sweetly at him, showing off her crooked yellow teeth. It didn't make him feel any better. "Can I sit beside you?" She made to move.

"Um, no," he declined, running his hand over the spot beside him to prevent anyone from sitting. Her smile—which said something he _didn't _like—made him a bit uncomfortable. "I'm good."

Nancy Bobofit was this kleptomaniac girl who'd bugged him since he stepped on the school steps. She kept on saying, _we should be, like, friends,_ or _do you have any interests?_ As if her whole life depended on it. She had a teacher-supporter, which simply means that she doesn't get suspended whenever she hits someone just to get to _him_.

That teacher was Mrs. Dodds. For some reason, the teacher just _despises _him. End of story.

Just then a blur of tan flew past him, sticking itself into his best friend's curly brown hair. It was a sandwich. He felt a rush of anger, and turned on the redhead, who always loved picking on the guy.

"What do you think you're doing?" Percy demanded.

But Nancy merely grinned at him and tried to touch his arm, but he shook her off and made to stand up, but Grover pulled him back. "Calm down, Percy," he said soothingly, dodging another one of the redhead's snacks. "We don't want anything to happen again."

Last time, Percy had tried to teach Bobofit a lesson when she did quite the same thing to his best friend the other day. He stood up to his least favorite teacher, Mrs. Dodds, just to shout in her face to make the girl stop. Something happened, which made her eyes glaze over slightly, before she shifted back into focus, looking a lot angrier, and gave him detention for a week. It happened more times than he could ever count and he got stuck with detention almost every weekend, and the occasional suspension. One more and he'd get booted.

Mr. Brunner led the museum tour.

He was this middle-aged guy in a motorized wheelchair. He was the only teacher whose class didn't put him to sleep out of bore, since he played games and showed off this Roman armor and weapons on said games.

He was telling the class about the Greek funeral art on the walls.

Then Percy heard Nancy snicker something about the naked guy on the stele. If anything, he thought that the guy was actually beautiful. It made him somewhat angry. "Will you _shut up_?" Of course he hadn't meant for it to be so loud.

The redhead shut her mouth instantly. Mr. Brunner raised an eyebrow at him, looking slightly dazed. "Do you have a comment, Mr. Jackson?"

"No, sir," he denied, his face red from embarrassment.

"Perhaps you'll tell us what this picture represents?"

He was pointing at the stele. Percy felt a flush of relief when he actually recognized it. "That's Paris and the three goddesses."

"Yes," the teacher nodded, obviously not satisfied. "What were they doing?"

"The three goddesses were fighting for a golden apple," he explained, knowing quite well why they were. He'd definitely get the golden apple having _to the fairest _on it—if only he was a girl. "Hera bribed Paris with wealth. Athena bribed him with wisdom."

"And..?"

"Aphrodite bribed him with Helen, the most beautiful woman in the land," he said, feeling proud of himself after not stumbling over his words when he said _beautiful. _"Paris chose Helen over the other gifts."

"Which led to the Trojan war," Mr. Brunner finished for him. "Why do you think he did so?"

"Um, love is forever?" It sounded like a stupid answer, but the teacher was gazing at him with eyes much too old than the body it serves. It unnerved him.

"Well, half-credit, Mr. Jackson," the Latin teacher finally said, looking disappointed. "They were, indeed, fighting for a golden apple. They had Zeus choose who to have the apple, but choosing was hard for him. So he had Paris of Troy choose as he will. Helen was taken from Menelaus, the king of Sparta, and so he and his brother declared war on the Trojans, demanding his wife back. On that happy note, it's time for lunch. Mrs. Dodds, could you please escort the class outside?"

The weather didn't look so good. Percy wondered what was wrong. The others didn't seem to notice it. Only Grover did, he reckoned, since he was glancing nervously at the dark sky, making a weird laughing sound. And then a squelching sound made Percy turn to his best friend. Grover had mayonnaise on his hair.

"That's it." He got up before Grover could stop him, and marched over to Bobofit, who looked like Christmas had come early.

"Percy, are you—"

"Get away from Grover!" His voice suddenly sounded ten times amplified, as if he was using a microphone. He didn't so much wince. Bobofit stumbled back, tripping on her own feet, and fell on her butt.

Then Mrs. Dodds was there in a flash, glaring at him.

He heard some of the kids muttering something about a speaker and a velvet potion. He didn't remember anything about having a speaker, and _definitely _not a potion.

Mrs. Dodds turned on him, "Now honey—"

"Get away from me," he mumbled, trying to make the thing work like what happened to Nancy, but his voice was as small as a whisper.

"Come with me."

* * *

"What are you hiding?!" Mrs. Dodds had turned into the ultimate demon hag. It didn't make her any less ugly.

"I am not hiding anything!" Except for the fact that he wanted to fix her face.

"Then die!" The demon dove at him, and he jumped left, only to trip on his own feet and fall flat on his face. Mrs. Dodds missed him by an inch. "Tell the truth, if you don't want to suffer!"

"I don't know anything!" Percy wailed, staggering to his feet. "Leave me alone!"

Somehow, it worked; Mrs. Dodds recoiled as though she was punched and stood there for a moment, dazed. He knew he should do something to kill the old hag, but his feet were like jelly.

"What ho, Percy!" Mr. Brunner came out of nowhere, holding a bronze pen. He tossed it to him. He caught it clumsily and stared as the pen elongated into a bronze sword, the one he uses on tournament days.

At first he didn't know what to do with it, until Mrs. Dodds snapped out of her daze and charged at him. He came back to his senses and closed his eyes, swinging blindly. There was a creepy hissing sound, a feeling of absoluteness, and then it was gone. He opened his eyes.

Percy was alone.

Feeling confused, he went outside. It was raining.

He found Mr. Brunner by the steps, reading a novel. He approached him. "Sir..?"

The teacher looked up distractedly. "Ah, that would be my pen," he said, taking his pen from his shaking hands. "Please bring your own writing utensil in the future, Mr. Jackson."

He frowned. "Where's Mrs. Dodds?"

"Who?" Mr. Brunner stared at him blankly.

Percy pursed his lips nervously. "Never mind," he mumbled, walking back to his best friend as he tried to think about what had just happened.

* * *

**Sorry for the shortness. But it would get better once we've had some feedback.**

**So again, the plotline would follow Rick's, only adding a bit more sparkle to make it a lot more original. Reviews are greatly appreciated!**

**~Smartzyfan**


	2. Useless

**A/N: **So, hey guys.

Yeah. I'm _**Ilsoaubieslele **_(don't ask with the name). Call me Ilso. Yay!

So yeah, this is a collaboration between me and Smartzy. I know you guys know her more as the Pertemis kind of girl and so I may have convinced her to do this Percabeth AU.

Sorry not sorry.

Anyways, I wrote this chapter. And yes, as much as I hate to admit it, I _do _slack off more than usual. Not just 'cause I'm really busy, but yeah I tend to procrastinate a lot and eat and distract myself see this is why my stories are never actually done, so yeah. :)))

But of course, I hope you do enjoy this one. And yes, we both have different writing styles. You can clearly see she's better at this—because hello, read her stories?—than I am so please bear with me. :D

Adios.

* * *

Chapter 2: Useless

He _did _look pretty cute when he drooled.

Annabeth Chase slowly put the spoon full of nectar between his lips, trying to push it inside without actually having to touch his mouth. It was hard spoon-feeding a sleeping person, not to mention a drooling one. The more she thought about it, the more she smirked. If he really was _the one_, then some guy he must be.

She gave up trying to push the utensil inside and put it back in the bowl, choosing to study the boy's face instead. He looked twelve, the same age she was. _For a half-blood, he's pretty . . . not built_. Annabeth thought silently, choosing not to say any harsh words even in her mind. His hair was a mess, but it didn't make him look much of a slob actually, it made him look even cuter. The rugged, casual kind of cute, if there was anything like that.

"Mmh," the boy was starting to stir awake. Annabeth leaned back on the chair, making it seem as if she wasn't secretly observing him when he was asleep—because honestly, that was a creepy stalker move.

"Wakey, wakey, sleepyhead." She murmured, amused. He was even cuter when he was all sleepy and yawning.

He opened his eyes. A startling shade of green, like a gorgeous, glittering sea overlooking the cliffs and valleys of Greece. "Wh-where am I?" He asked, a numb hand reaching up to scratch at his hair.

"What do you know about the summer solstice?" It was pretty early to ask that, since the guy just woke up and he was looking more confused than satyrs having a whiff of alcohol, but she was _dying_ to get out and go on a quest already. Annabeth had been waiting for, what, five years already? This might be the chance she's been waiting for.

And sure, Matthew Hathes might be a son of Poseidon's, but all he ever did was attract a few monsters. And not even the deadly ones. What use was he? Maybe this guy right here was _it_. She'd waited such a long time for somebody to arrive and be the one to lead her on to being one of the greatest campers.

Annabeth gave him a hopeful look.

"I . . ." The boy managed to mumble before snapping his eyes shut and falling back to the bed, going back to Dreamland.

A small sigh left Annabeth's lips as soft purrs of snoring came from the cot. She tried once again to feed him some nectar before reaching for his hair and patting it lightly in an effort to make it flat. "Night-night, sleepyhead."

* * *

He had hit a nerve when he asked about her dad.

"My dad is a professor at West Point." Annabeth was clutching the metal bars that barricaded the pier, trying to hold herself together. Her dad was a touchy subject. "I haven't seen him since I was very small. He teaches American History." She remembered reading the dusty encyclopedias her father owned in his study, full of Post-it notes which had his scrawly handwriting all over it. Sometimes, they were added information, trivias. Sometimes, they were just personal reminders he randomly stuck in pages.

Annabeth missed her father.

"He's human?" Percy dumbly asked, shoving a pile of sand from under his shoe.

She rolled her eyes. _Men_. Typical. "What? You assume it has to be a male god who finds a human female attractive? How sexist is that?" Annabeth gave him one of her disgusted looks.

"Who's your mom, then?"

"Cabin six." There was a small smile on the side of her lips. On the other hand, Annabeth loved talking about her mother. She felt the need to show off that she was a daughter of _Athena_. The goddess of wisdom, which was pretty much a big deal for her. She wasn't just like those stupid, narcissistic girls from Aphrodite's. Or those bulky, hard-headed ones from Ares'. She was smart. Intellectual. Wise. She actually had sense.

"Meaning?"

_Really_? "Athena. Goddess of wisdom and battle."

Percy was silent for awhile, staring at the metal railing before finally asking. "And my parent?"

"Undetermined." Annabeth said, for about the one billionth time. "Like I told you before. Nobody knows." She said it rather softly this time, trying to not sound harsh for the boy's sake. He just got chased by a rampaging Minotaur, resulting in being beaten up _pretty_ badly. Now he's like a lost, confused sheep, looking for his other sheep-siblings.

"Right. So I've either got a mortal father and a goddess mom, or a godly dad and a mortal mother? That's pretty messed up."

"I don't know, Percy." Annabeth shrugged her shoulders, trying to avoid meeting his gaze. Percy wasn't like the others. The other demigods usually had one, standalone parent who had fallen in love with one of the gods, got left alone, and they'd raised their own child. Percy . . . He was just all by himself. No dad. No mom.

"Oh." Percy gently kicked the sand to the other side of the railing, another awkward silence stopping their conversation. He was trying to keep his cool, Annabeth could tell. "Well, maybe I'll find out, I guess. Someday? I mean, I'm pretty sure they wouldn't leave me all alone in the dust like this, right?" His voice, it sounded different. So . . . hopeful. Like he really hoped that one of the gods would claim him as their own.

Annabeth was feeling sorrier and sorrier for him by the minute.

She chose her words carefully this time and spoke in a much lighter and gentler tone. "Maybe . . . you're right. Maybe they'll send a sign, that's the only way to know for sure. Your parent has to send you a sign claiming you as his or her son. Sometimes it happens."

It snapped him up and Percy gave Annabeth a look. "You mean sometimes it doesn't?" His tone was slightly bitter this time. And rash.

"The gods are busy. They have a lot of kids and they don't always . . . Well, sometimes they don't care about us, Percy." The conversation was not going good. "They ignore us."

His silence was back. He was just looking down; pretending as if the rusting on the metal was much more interesting than whatever Annabeth was telling him. _It's okay_. She could hear her brain think. _We've been through this._ _All of us_.

Percy Jackson gave a shrug, and kicked some more sand, letting the grain fly through the railings and make a tingling sound as it hit the metal.

* * *

"Watch it, Percy!" Annabeth yelled, taking out her sword. Percy was battered and bruised up.

Badly.

The hellhound was in front of him now, growling and glaring with those menacing red eyes. Matthew was thrown off to the side, bloody scratches from both the battle and the knockout from the creature. It gave Percy another low growl and Annabeth swiftly slashed a cut by its side, buying her more time to drag Percy out of the hellhound's way.

The monster howled out loud in pain, its eyes flickering even more and searching for its attacker. Annabeth was with Percy, hiding out of a bush big enough to cover at least the both of them. Once the hellhound found no else, it settled its eyes on the only person left in the clearing.

Matthew.

It started stalking towards him, snorting and barking at the same time. Annabeth wanted to laugh because the hellhound sounded like a crossbreed between a dog and a pig, but now was not the time. She closed her eyes, and held onto Percy tight. The monster crouched low, and pounced up high, its razor-sharp canines inched out from its slobbery mouth and aiming directly at Matthew's head when—

The hellhound stopped mid-air and crashed to the ground, giving another long howl as blood started pouring out from its backside, staining the dark coat of the monster.

Annabeth opened her eyes and saw Matthew's sword stabbed against the hellhound. She slowly came out of the clearing as a pair of trembling hands took it out from the creature and dropped it to the ground.

It was Percy.

"I—I came after it before it could . . . take on Matthew." He gasped, staggering to his knees and collapsing onto the hard dirt. Soon, the other campers came rushing in, blue and red-feathered helmets scattered around the small space and watching the scene before them.

Luke shoved his way into the crowd. "Matthew? Perce?" He gave Annabeth a stern look. "What happened here?" He was clutching onto the red team's banner. Nobody seemed to be making any move to snatch it away from him, but he was still holding tight to it.

But Annabeth wasn't answering at all. She was too busy fixated on the pink aura around Percy. "Why are you pi—" She stopped herself as Percy's clothes started de-materializing and were now changing to a dark purple-colored French suit. The pink aura was glowing even brighter and brighter as other things were appearing and changing on Percy's body. A chain of gold around his neck, a gold watch fastened on his wrist. His hair was still sticking up, but it was styled in a much neater way. Everyone's jaw dropped and their eyes were bugging out.

He was . . . handsome.

"W-Why are you guys staring? What's going on?" Percy asked, looking at down at himself to where everyone's eyes were at. "What the—How'd I change? I didn't even touch anything and—Guys, what's going on?"

They heard hooves clopping against the dirt and in came Chiron, looking worriedly at the crowd. "What is happening here?" All of the campers pointed at Percy, and the centaur gasped. "It is determined."

"W-What are you talking about . . . ?"

Everyone kneeled before Percy, even Clarisse, Annabeth and Matthew. From the left, they can hear the Aphrodite campers squealing and cheering.

"Aphrodite." Chiron announced. "Goddess of Love, Beauty, and Desire. Hail, Perseus Jackson, Son of the Lady of the Doves."

_An Aphrodite kid._

And Annabeth thought he was any use at all.

* * *

**Aaand I'll take it from here. In my opinion, the chapter was just... yeah. Just yeah.**

**All that was her work. I simply made two corrections. And sooo..**

**We've already done the plot (just yesterday, actually) and we're ready for some action. Because there's two of us, updates would be faster, of course. But I have something *coughPertemiscough* to finish, so the next chapter should be in about two-three days. Anyway..**

**Yay. He was claimed. There was a reviewer who already guessed that. Well, here you go: (::)  
**

**Please do review. I know Percabeth is _pretty _mainstream but hey, I tried to tell her to do the PerZoe I've been planning about. Or the Perlia, maybe. But nooo. So please do give this fic a chance :)) I try hard to be original. And annoying.**

**REVIEW! ~Smartzyfan**


	3. Wandering

**Okay. So this chapter would be longer and much more action-filled. I hope. Enjoy.**

* * *

Chapter 3: Wandering

"You look great, man. Thanks for the save," Matthew thanked him, grinning despite his injuries. Percy forced a smile and nodded, straining a glance over his sisters to Annabeth, who rolled her eyes and went with the son of Poseidon back to the cabins.

His sisters made him busy. "Hey, hey, quiet down!" A tall, beautiful teen said to the other girls, who silenced instantly, but they were still bouncing on the balls of their feet. The teen turned to him, beaming. "I'm Silena. I'm the leader of the Aphrodite cabin. And these are our sisters.."

He counted them as they introduced themselves one by one, and Percy was secretly dismayed that he was the only guy in the cabin. All of them were girls: five sisters, plus Silena. He wasn't afraid to be one, but he didn't like to be, ahem, bi.

"Uh, hi," he gave them his most dazzling smile. They looked pleased.

"Now, Percy, go get your stuff from cabin 11," Silena told him as the whole Aphrodite crew walked toward their cabin. "You'll be sleeping with us from now on."

"And we have to get your spark up!" They cheered. Percy grinned and jogged toward the Hermes cabin, excited to get acquainted with his sisters.

He finally had a family. A real family. He wasn't lonely anymore. He was loved. Like, real _loved._

At least that was what he felt like ever since he was claimed.

He paused and looked down at his clothes. They were certainly better than the tattered shirt and jeans that he'd worn a while ago. He wondered if he could keep them.

He shrugged and continued his jog to the Hermes cabin. Surely, his mother would let him. He wondered what his mom was like. Was she the kind that wanted her children to be the most beautiful, prom kings and queens? Or was she the one who was content with how her children wanted themselves to be?

He reached the Hermes cabin. He was about to knock when heard voices at the side of the cabin, the opposite from where he came from. He went and peered cautiously.

"—but he wasn't! Just another one of Aphrodite's." Annabeth was ranting to Luke. His eyes widened. Were they talking about _him?_

"Annabeth, I'm sure he's the one you're waiting for—"

"He's an Aphrodite child, Luke. All they do is mess things up and make themselves noticed!" Percy was tempted to interfere and tell the girl off, but he held his ground.

"Silena isn't like that," Luke spoke with such certainty that Percy wondered if they'd been any closer as friends. "She could be trusted. I'm sure Percy could be the same way."

Annabeth sighed. "Fine. I'll just have to wait for another demigod to come in alive, then."

She started to stomp off in his direction, which made him step back hurriedly and knock on Hermes' door. He sighed in relief as he heard Luke stop her to say something. The door opened.

He was met with a bunch of faces, all with different expressions. Most were bitter, jealous, angry. The others, the Hermes kids, had small smiles, as if they were happy to have sent him away and lessen the space covered. But he was sure they were happy for him, for having claimed immediately and having a merry life with real siblings. Or half-siblings.

Maybe that was one of Aphrodite's powers: sensing emotions.

He quickly took his things from the small space he was allotted, not able to bear seeing their expressions any longer. If only he had the power to help them, he would, but right now.. Percy was _just _an Aphrodite kid, who messes things up and makes themselves noticed.

Thanks a lot.

Percy was welcomed into his cabin with bright smiles. They led him to his bunk and had him fix his belongings at the bed—which was a bright pink, by the way. Never an ideal color for a guy, but he had to live with it. Besides, real men wear pink. Snort.

The cabin was like a life-sized dollhouse, with pink walls and white window trim. The lace curtains were pastel blue and green. The beds were—you guessed it—pink. It seemed to him that it was there first time having a guy in here. Maybe if he could make some changes, he'd have this cabin welcome for guys and girls alike. As if that would really happen.

He sighed as he hung the Minotaur horn proudly at the side. That was it, really: the horn, some toiletries from Luke, and a set of spare clothes. He glanced at the other bunks. Each one had a wooden camp chest, he guessed to store clothes in, and had all sorts of pictures of different singers, actors, or celebrities that they thought were good-looking. He didn't really idolize anyone except for this one singer, and he didn't have any money to buy even one poster.

He looked down at his clothes. The glow was gone, but the stylish clothes were still there. He wasn't so sure if the suit was comfortable for sleeping.

"Here, Percy," Silena was then beside him, carrying a bunch of clothes. She handed them to him. "We have a stock here in case we'd have guys pouring in the cabin, so here. The size isn't too tight, I hope, but you can look for more fitting ones there." She pointed to a closet nearby. The unpainted wood seemed out of place in the land of pink and white plushies. "You can change. The blessing won't stop you. If you need anything, I'll see you tomorrow."

He managed a nod before she went back to her bunk. After he changed, he didn't realize how exhausted he was until he collapsed on his soft, pink bed. Definitely better than a sleeping bag.

He thought about the good things. He had a mom. He had siblings. He had a family. He was at home.

As he closed his eyes, he remembered what Annabeth had said about him and his siblings. He swore to, someday, make a name for the Aphrodite cabin in this new home.

* * *

Being an Aphrodite camper has its perks. For one, gossip comes to you almost immediately.

"I heard that Matthew had gotten a quest from Chiron.."

"Why now? Poseidon claimed him a few weeks ago.."

"Something about a missing power.."

He certainly has good ears, since he woke up to whispers. Matthew's got a quest? Well, no surprise there. He was a son of Poseidon, one of the strongest Olympians. Of course he would get a quest. He hoped that he'd get a quest too, soon, willing to see the world from a demigod's perspective.

"Don't hope on it, honey," a high-pitched voice said from behind him, as if reading his thoughts. He turned and recognized the older girl as Drew. "Aphrodite kids never get in quests. If we ever do, it's very, _very _rare. They see us as a pain, haven't you noticed yet?"

"Don't you ever get bothered?" he asked her.

She raised an eyebrow. "Why would we? All they do there is get dirty, kill monsters, get dirty some more," she explained as a matter-of-factly, examining her nails. "Besides, all we need is here at camp. Make-up, food, cute guys. We won't need to leave."

"Huh." He went silent. Unlike them, he wanted to explore the world, see what he can do. He wanted to see if he was any good to be even born as the son of the goddess of beauty.

He glanced at the clock. It was almost time for breakfast. Then a knock came at the cabin's door. He waited as his sister took it for them. It was Grover. The satyr glanced around the cabin nervously. "Um, Percy, Matthew took you as a companion in his quest. They'll leave this morning. You need to pack."

He left, the sound of his hooves clopping against the sandy ground left behind for them. The cabin was silent for a while, before most of the girls crowded around Percy, wishing him good luck. He smiled gratefully and began to pack, some of the clothes given to him by Silena, and nectar and ambrosia, again given by Silena. He headed to the bathroom to change, when he saw Drew at the corner of his eye.

She rolled her eyes at him. "At least come back alive. We won't need any negative comments about Aphrodite anymore." She strutted off.

It would've been a 'good luck' enough for him if she didn't say it the way she did.

* * *

"You'll need this." Chiron handed him the same bronze pen he used on tournament days.

Percy blinked. "This is a pen."

"The same one you used to kill the Kindly One," the centaur retorted, smiling. "Matthew has a similar one, though I can't tell which the original is. You can find out for yourselves."

"I don't suppose this needs to be thrown at me to activate?"

He chuckled. "Certainly not. Take off the cap."

Percy uncapped it, and in half a second, he held a shimmering bronze sword with double-edged blade, leather-wrapped grip, and a flat hilt riveted with gold studs. It was not so much balanced for him.

"Name it," Chiron told him. "I don't think Matthew would appreciate anyone christening a sword the same name as his."

He thought about it. He thought about the times that people crowded around him. He thought about the time when he had a field trip with a class (in a different school, his lawyer was surprisingly working hard to provide him with a school) and they passed by a mall, his mere presence attracting eyes from the strangers.

"Deleazo," he decided.

"Entice," Chiron translated, nodding approvingly. "A fitting name for the sword of a son of Aphrodite. Hurry along now; wouldn't want to keep your friends waiting."

…

"You shall go west and face the god who has turned,

You shall find what was stolen, and see it safely returned."

He stared at him. "That's it?"

Matthew frowned, looking distracted. He nodded.

Percy was skeptic. The son of Poseidon was obviously hiding something. Life has ups and downs, right? It shouldn't be all rainbows and sunshine. The prophecy was incomplete.

He guessed that the guy didn't say the bad stuff. How much more lines of bad stuff? Two? Four? He wondered if it involved him.

Oh, he didn't know how right he was back then. The camp van slowed to a stop.

* * *

"I thought you killed one of them!"

"I did!"

"It's okay," Annabeth calmed the boys down, thinking hard. "The Erinyes. The three worst monsters of the Underworld. No problem. We'll slip out the windows."

Percy groped the handle and pulled. "It won't budge."

"A back exit?" she suggested. He turned. There wasn't one.

"An emergency exit on the roof..?" Matthew tried. The bus plunged into the Lincoln tunnel; all went dark except for the running lights down the aisle. It was eerily quiet without the sound of the rain.

"I've got it," Annabeth said. She shoved her hat into Matthew's hands. "You're the one they want. Turn invisible and go up the aisle. Let them pass you. Then get to the front and get away."

She sounded so sure, that Percy actually had no doubts about it.

"But you guys—"

"There's an outside chance that they might not notice us," she said. "You're a son of one of the Big Three. Your smell could be overpowering."

"I won't leave you," the guy said, desperate to take his friends with him.

"Don't worry about us," Percy told him. "Go!"

That seemed to do the trick, because he quickly took the Yankees cap and put it on. He disappeared.

They waited. "Percy," Annabeth whispered, her hand twitching to her dagger as the old ladies made their way down the aisle. "Don't do anything stupid."

"I won't," he promised. It sounded empty.

Before they knew it, the old ladies were there, surrounding them. Rather, shriveled leathery brown hag bodies with bat wings and hands and feet like gargoyle claws, their eyes glowing like barbecue coals. They had a mouthful of yellow fangs—which they were going to use to reduce them to baby powder, by the way.

Oh, and not to mention the fire whips.

"Where is it? Where?"

All Percy could register was that they weren't looking for Matthew before both Annabeth and he were thrown to the right. They shot off the highway. The bus was like a crazy dog with its tail on fire, spreading Armageddon all over the streets of New York.

The bus spun a full circle on the wet asphalt and crashed to the trees. The passengers stampeded out of the open door.

Percy took his pen and uncapped it, ignoring the extra weight and using it to ward the three monsters off. Annabeth did the same thing with her dagger. Then someone from the front yelled, "Hey!"

The Erinyes turned. Percy took his chance and tried to stab one between its leathery wings.

Annabeth yelled, "No!"

But it was too late. The monster had spun on him and hit him hard with its fiery whip, sending him outside the window, the sound of broken glass lingering.

"You will pay for that!" Matthew growled, uncapping his pen and lunging at the middle Erinys. It lashed its whip around his sword hand while the other two lunged at him. He sent the left Erinys toppling backwards onto a seat, and slashed at the one on the right. It exploded into dust.

Annabeth got the middle Erinys in a wrestler's hold. She raised her knife, and with effort, stabbed it in the skull. It split open, then exploded just like her sister. The daughter of Athena fell forward, then maintained her balance.

Their only problem now was the left Erinys, which was atop the headrest of a seat. She brandished her fangs. "Zeus will destroy you! Hades will have your soul!"

Thunder shook the bus. "Get out!" Annabeth yelled.

They rushed outside and found Percy on his feet, having bloody gashes and tattered clothes by the glass. He was talking to the passengers, who were listening in a daze.

"Our bags!" Matthew realized.

_BOOOOOM!_

* * *

"Ow, ow, ow," Percy complained, wincing as Annabeth washed his wounds with warm water and a towel, and letting them dry naturally. So maybe trying to stab that hag was a big mistake. Big deal.

"I told you not to do anything stupid."

"But I just wanted to help—"

"And you just made things worse!"

"Lay off him, Annabeth," Matthew sighed, sitting down with them. "He hardly got any training. I'm sure he'd get better—"

"If you hadn't chosen him then I wouldn't be doing this right now."

The son of Poseidon quieted. Percy narrowed his eyes at the girl. Ever since he got claimed, he'd been noticing the change in her attitude towards him. She treated him like he was useless. But he wasn't! If he hadn't spoken to the passengers, one of them could've taken a picture of them, and they'd be in the wild goose chase of the century.

"I figured that he wanted to see the real world, just as you do."

Annabeth pursed her lips as she threw the bloody water away, keeping the towel. "Okay. So maybe if Matthew hadn't joined the fight, we'd be left alone, and all this wouldn't happen."

"Hey!"

The tense atmosphere was gone in a second. They all laughed. It felt good to laugh after you'd almost been killed by a bunch of old demon hags.

They continued their trek into the woods, Percy occasionally cursing for foolishly leaving his bag at the bus. If only he'd gotten that spare clothes, he wouldn't be so cold right now. After a mile of generally feeling miserable, they caught a smell of delicious food. He realized that he hadn't got to eat ever since they left Camp Half-Blood. He wondered what it felt like to eat with his siblings. What sorts of gossip would he get? Fashion tips?

Speaking of fashion, he just noticed that his hair was still neatly fixed. His skin was perfectly smooth, as if it wasn't recently damaged by the fire whip and the glass. He still had the blessing. Not that he would need it in this quest.

They kept walking until they saw a closed-down gas station, a tattered billboard for a '90s movie, and an open business across a deserted two-lane road. The business must've been the source of the good smell.

The place needed a serious makeover.

The building was a long, low warehouse, surrounded by acres of dusty statuary. The lawn was messed up. There was a neon sign above the gate, and if there was anything worse for his dyslexia than regular English, it was red _cursive_ neon English.

"Um," Percy mumbled, staring accusingly at the sign as if it was its fault that he couldn't read it.

"What the heck does that say?" Matthew asked them.

No one answered. So great. They were doing good, got away from monsters, possibly found something to eat, but were stopped by a frigging sign.

"I'm hungry."

* * *

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